


Imperial Entanglements

by RiaJade01



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:38:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7811095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiaJade01/pseuds/RiaJade01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Mara met Malavai, beginning roughly at the end of Chapter 1 of the Sith Warrior storyline. This will most continue up through Belsavis. Events beginning with a certain traumatic incident and beyond are covered in "Legacy of Betrayal". The original first chapter of this work, titled "Sith Marriage" has been moved to my new catch-all for random vignettes, "Thrask Family Stories".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Called Multitasking, Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn requests permission to go save Major Ovech. Mara acquiesces, but with some non-canon stipulations. Quinn is better at multitasking than he thinks. Set a bit after the conclusion of Chapter 1.

“Looks like this is the end of the line for me, but I’m not going to go down without a fight. Ovech out.”

The holo went dead. Quinn had to forcibly unclench his jaw before he could speak.

“My lord, Major Ovech would be a terrible loss to the Empire,” he said carefully. His words were true, but he could not deny how his blood boiled at the thought of his old friend meeting a grisly end due to Moff Broysc’s egomania.

He turned to Mara - Lord Mara, he reminded himself sternly - and met her yellow-orange gaze, proud of how little his heart began racing at the connection.  Her face was etched from stone, her lips compressed in a thin, angry line.

“I know the layout of Major Ovech’s ship by heart. I could infiltrate and free his men so they could join the fight,” He said.

She nodded.  “Yes, of course you must go.  But I am coming with you.”

Mara brushed past him as she walked to her quarters to gear up.  He shuddered at her touch and followed her, his brain working to process what he just heard.  He thought of the stack of work on the bridge that he had been unable to fully concentrate on over the past week or two, since she’d… since they’d…

> _“I like taking risks,” she purred, then stepped close and kissed him softly.  His cursed body melted against her on contact, one hand pressing into the small of her back to pull her body against his, and the other sliding to the base of her neck, his fingers splayed, finding the ridges that ran down the top of her spine.  Her pressed her mouth open hungrily as if he’d been kissing her for years, as if he had the right to demand any kind of entrance to her body.  She obliged him, melted against him in turn._
> 
> _It was everything he’d fantasized it would be; and yet it was nothing like.  His imagination, vivid as it was in the dark when the rest of the ship slept, could not even begin to account for feeling her against him in the flesh.  The sound of Jaesa and Vette returning to the ship had shocked Quinn back to reality and he’d torn himself away from his lord, sure he was imagining the disappointed look that flashed across her face as they separated._

“Captain, I believe you were going to tell me why I should stay here?”  Mara had paused and was looking back at him with a deeply pleased smile on her face.

Quinn felt himself blush; she had clearly worked out at least part of his line of thought.   _Concentrate, man._

“Yes indeed, my lord,” he responded stiffly, catching up to her.

“You have five minutes to convince me,” she said, as they began walking again.

“Well, my lord, this is quite beneath your notice, for one thing,” he began.   _And there’s no way I can concentrate on anything if you’re next to me._ “And one of us will need to stay with the-”

He froze in shock as the door closed behind him.  They were in her quarters.  Alone.  The scent of her filled his nose: Dromund Kaas pinewood and clove and a hint of what he could now identify as purely _her_.

“I… I am fully capable of accomplishing this task alone, my lord.” Had his uniform collar grown tighter?  “I do not wish to trouble you further.”

“Captain, your concern for my priorities is touching, I suppose, but I am troubled that you think that the extra-judicial execution of loyal Imperial soldiers is beneath my notice.”  Her voice was distracted as she rummaged through her wardrobe, swapping components of a utility belt and tossing a couple of pieces of armor onto her bed.

She turned back to him. “I am very concerned by this development, as an Imperial citizen.  And as a Sith Lord, I am in a position to correct the issue.  As to the ship, Vette is fully capable of caring for the Fury in our absence.” She smiled. “Things may not be exactly as you left them, but I assure you the ship will be fine.”

To his horror, she began pulling the sleeveless civilian shirt she’d been wearing over her head.  He caught a flash of red skin - her bare stomach, then her back as she turned toward the bed - before he could force himself to turn his back to her, studying the door of her quarters.

“Beyond that, my accompanying you is not a commentary on your abilities, Quinn.  I simply believe you should take advantage of every weapon in your arsenal for this.”

He worked moisture into his dry throat before responding, “My lord?”  

“Captain, what will happen to Major Ovech and his men after you correct this situation?  Will Moff Broysc be content with the failure of this attempt to remove Ovech from command?”

Quinn cocked his head, considering.  It was unusual that he would not think something through to its full conclusion, but this… “I do not know, my lord,” he admitted.  “I am ashamed to say I had not considered that eventuality.”  He fought a sigh.  “However, I believe you are correct; Moff Broysc is not one to leave things… unfinished.”  He felt his stomach twist.

“Agreed.  Now, if Major Ovech were returned to his ship with open and unwavering SIth support…”

Realization dawned.  “Even Moff Broysc would think twice before making another attempt on Ovech.”

“And if he does try again, he opens himself up to charges of treason.”

Quinn felt himself smile.  “That is rather skillful, my lord.”

“Why, thank you, Captain.”  He could hear the corresponding smile in her voice.

“But there is the matter that infiltration will be more difficult with you present; Moff Broysc’s men are more likely to respond… strongly… if they see a Sith Lord fighting her way on board.”

“Then we shall have to be sure they do not see a Sith Lord, but an Imperial officer and his hired assassin.”

Mara’s hand touched his arm and turned him to face her.  She wore black, lightweight armor and a glossy utility belt.  The armored jacket she wore took its cues from an Imperial officer’s uniform without mimicking it exactly, and  included a hood that she had pulled up to mask her Sith features.

Instead of her lightsaber, a wicked-looking blaster was strapped to her thigh.

He gaped at her.  “Can you… that is, without your lightsaber…”

She chuckled and pulled the hood back.  “Oh, Captain, you have no idea.  I look forward to showing off for you.”

That lump returned to his throat.  “How shall we proceed then, my lord?”

She shook her head.  “This is your operation.  Command me as you would any other strike team member.”

His mind immediately began formulating a series of commands that were not pertinent to the mission in the slightest.

“My lord, that is not appropriate,”  he said, more for himself than for her.

“You have the background and knowledge that makes you the appropriate CO for this mission, Captain.”  

She leaned up and kissed his cheek.  Her lips may as well have been a brand for how he burned when she pulled away.

“Consider me yours to unleash.”


	2. It's Called Multitasking, Captain, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn and Mara plan their assault on Ovech's comandeered ship. Mara starts speaking Quinn’s language and the good captain’s heart (and other parts of him) simply cannot cope.

The Fury’s shuttle was little more than an escape pod fitted with a sublight drive and minimal shielding.  It allegedly held up to four crew, but Quinn found himself questioning that guidance as he plotted an intercept course with Ovech’s ship, _Nightbringer_ , all the while trying to ignore the slight pressure he felt on the back of the chair and the sound of Mara’s armor rubbing against the chair’s leather back when she shifted.

She must have sensed his tension, for she made a small tsking sound and backed away, settling into a crew chair along the back wall of the pod.  Quinn fought back a sigh of relief and finished the calculations and turned on the autopilot.  Once they were underway, he picked up a datapad and swivelled the chair to face her, calling up a schematic on the assault transport they were about to infiltrate.  She leaned forward to see it better.  Their knees were almost touching.

“An assault class troop transport,” she identified it.  “Essentially a personnel ferry built on the back of a rabid tuk’ata.”

Quinn’s eyebrows shot up despite himself.  She grinned.  

“Your metaphor is apt, my lord,” he said.  “Because the assault class was built in part to disable and board enemy vessels, the designers built in a full secondary systems control array in the engineering section, as a fallback position should the ship be overrun with enemy boarders.”

“We may want to inform Imperial Research of the flaws in this design if we’re successful today,” Mara responded dryly.  “I presume that’s our target.”

He nodded.  “The secondary systems array requires Imperial codes to access, which presumably the enemy would not have, my lord.  But we are not the enemy.” He smiled despite himself.  “We will dock here,” he made a note on the pad. “Which gives us a straight shot up the main corridor to Engineering.  After that we can seize complete control of the ship and lock Moff Broysc’s men on the bridge and out of the computer.”

“Which will give us enough time to free Ovech’s crew and decide how to deal with the boarders.” She furrowed her brow.  “What about patrols? Guards?”

“There will be both, though I do not have any data on their likely movements.  I am sorry, my lord.”

She leaned forward a bit more and tapped a command into the datapad, expanding the schematic to show all five decks of the _Nightbringer_.  

“We must assume they know of the danger posed by the secondary array,” she said thoughtfully.  “If I were trying to hold this ship, I’d bring three squadrons: one to hold the bridge, one to hold engineering, and one split between guarding prisoners and patrol detail.” She paused.  “Do you know who commands Broysc’s men?”

He shook his head.  “Not conclusively, my lord.  If I were to hypothesize I’d say Lieutenant Sidcro and his Black Skulls platoon.  They have done Broysc’s dirtier work in the past, and they would be the ideal fit for a mission of this type.”  Quinn’s voice shook a little; he was not simply referring to the logistics of the mission.  Sidcro was not a pleasant man.  “Black Skulls is comprised of three special forces squadrons:  Maw Squadron, Bleeding Eye Squadron, and Dissonance Squadron.  If it is Sidcro, Bleeding Eye squadron will likely be on patrol duty, as it has the largest complement of the three squadrons.”

Mara nodded.  “The brig is on the same deck as Engineering, so that will mean the biggest concentration of men will be there.”  She turned the datapad in his hands.  “If we can get to Engineering first, we should be able to hold it against most any assault.  That hallway makes for a nice choke point, and unless the platoon has a collective death wish, they will be cautious about shooting up the equipment in the engine room.”

“Agreed.”  He paused.  “If I may say so, my lord, you have a grasp of military matters that is unique amongst the Sith I have worked with.”

She cocked her head at him.  “I am an admiral’s daughter, Captain.  I was raised to respect and understand the military that underwrites our dominance in the galaxy.”

Quinn gaped, a few puzzle pieces clicking into place.  “You… you are related to Admiral Thrask.  My lord,” he added belatedly.  

The admiral was esteemed as a hard nosed and exacting commander who was fiercely loyal to the crew who met his standards.  A model Imperial officer.  And the admiral was human.  That Mara could look so thoroughly Sith while having half human blood… her lineage must be strong, indeed.

She nodded in response to his statement.  “Do you see now why this situation with Broysc concerns me?  Captain, I realize relatively few Sith see the military as anything other than a tool to be used and discarded, but I do not.  I have the position and power to root out corruption in our ranks, and I will use every bit of my strength to do so.”

He stared at her.  He had said, not long ago, that the woman before him was wholly unique.  Every new piece of information he learned about her both confirmed that assessment and rendered it woefully inadequate.  Mara was not merely unique; not merely special or singular or any other endearment one might use to describe a lover.  She was _everything_ ; everything Quinn had ever wanted, consciously and unconsciously, and if he were completely honest with himself, he was already past saving.  He had pledged himself to her service over a year ago, but he realized now somewhere along the way his soul had slipped his body and joined her as well.  He was lost.

In the grip of that heady realization, he reached for her.  To take her, now, and the mission and propriety be damned.  The datapad clattered to the floor.

But the proximity alert beeped, yanking Quinn back to reality with a startled jerk.  Both his hands gripped her upper arms.  Their faces were centimeters apart, one of his knees nestled firmly between her warm thighs.  Her eyes had closed to slits and her lips were parted.

_Kriff.  Bloody, kriffing hell, what have I done?_

He scrambled backward, his face burning as shame flooded through him.  The noise she made as he tore himself away from her, an intimate, strangled cry, sent shivers through him.

“Please, forgive me, my lord.”  He snapped the chair back to face the console, unable to bring himself to look at her.

“Believe me, Captain, you’ve done nothing that warrants an apology.”  Was that disappointment in her voice?

“And if you had, an apology would not be required.  I wish you could see that.”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.  She did not understand.  He had known for months now their attraction was mutual; she had been very clear on that front.  No, his chief objection arose from the fact that any liaison between them represented a danger to her.  He refused to become that kind of liability to her campaigns.  Worse, even if he could get his head straight, he was unsure if she wanted anything from him beyond a casual dalliance, and he knew enough about his own feelings to know that would not be sufficient in the long run.  He could not demand exclusivity from her, not in his position, not given how little he could offer her in return.  No matter how much he might fantasize about it.  

 _Focus, Malavai.  Focus on the mission_.

“We will dock with the _Nightbringer_ in two minutes, my lord,” he said quietly, grateful that the maneuver would require his full attention.

She picked up the datapad and placed it on the console next to him.

“I’ll be waiting by the airlock when you are ready.”


	3. It's Called Multitasking, Captain, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn and Mara retake Ovech's ship. They work very well together, save for one minor hiccup. Mara charms Ovech with her disarming personality.

Blaster fire sizzled past Quinn’s head.  He ducked back into the doorway he was crouching in for cover, his back bumping into Mara’s chest.  They were facing the last four of Lieutenant Sidcro’s men.  Well, the last four that were still roaming free on _Nightbringer_.  The lieutenant himself and three more of his men were locked on the bridge.  Their attackers were guarding the only way into or out of the bridge.

That he and Mara had been able to sweep _Nightbringer_ for all but one of the lieutenant’s patrols without incident was nothing short of a statistical miracle.  It was only fair, Quinn reflected bitterly, that the math would catch up with their luck eventually.  

Of course, it had not been purely luck; the woman at his back had deftly neutralized all opposition even without her lightsaber or obvious uses of the Force to attack her enemies. They had successfully used the secondary array to lock down the bridge and Ovech’s engineers and two soldiers loyal to him were guarding the engine room.  The rest of the platoon they freed from the brig took a shuttle to the surface to retrieve Ovech from the Republic troops converging on his location.  They had been gone just over an hour at this point.

“Any ideas, my lord?” Quinn asked over his shoulder as he returned fire blindly with an appropriated blaster rifle.  He had to raise his voice to be heard over the din.

In reply, Mara’s gloved hand appeared in front of his face, thrust over his shoulder.  It was holding her lightsaber.  

He felt his mouth drop open as he turned toward her, lowing the rifle.  She had pulled her hood down for the first time since they had boarded _Nightbringer_.  Her hair was a mess and her yellow-orange eyes twinkled merrily when they met his.  Stars, she was beautiful.

“I thought you decided not to bring it,” he said.

“I decided not to be obvious about it,” she corrected him.  “How else is an idiot like Sidcro going to be convinced I am Sith without my weapon of choice at his throat?”

“You...” he trailed off as he gripped the back of her head and pulled her toward him.  Her free hand grabbed the front of his uniform in response.  He could feel the soft smile on her face when his lips met hers.  

She growled suddenly and yanked him toward her and slightly to the side as she shifted forward and up, out of her crouch.  Time seemed to slow.  He heard the bark of a blaster rifle, Mara’s grunt, and the snap-hiss of her lightsaber igniting, all three sounds happening in the same heartbeat.  By that point Quinn had hit the ground and turned onto his side, bringing his own blaster up. Sidcro’s men stood in the doorway, their blaster rifles trained on Mara.

“Pity.  You could have died happy,” one of the soldiers said.

They clearly had never faced a Sith Lord before.  All four fired on her as if this were an execution.  Her lightsaber wove a complicated pattern before her, reflecting every bolt back at them.  They died before the could loose another volley.

“You first,” Mara growled at the corpses.

She closed down her lightsaber and crouched next to Quinn.  The blaster burn in her shoulder filled his vision.  Given how she had stood up, that had been meant for the back of his head.  He stared at it, his thoughts racing almost as fast as his pulse.  If she had been a hair slower... or worse, had actually left her lightsaber behind...   _Stupid, stupid,_ he thought to himself.   _You knew this would happen and yet you stayed, you idiot._

Mara’s hands gripped his gently and drew him into a sitting position.  She was kneeling in front of him, one knee on either side of his thigh.

“Malavai,” she said softly.

He started.  She had never used his given name before.  Hearing it slowed his thoughts a little.  She reached out and turned his face away from her shoulder and up to meet her gaze.  Her touch was cool and soothing.

“I am going to be fine,” she said gently.  “Still, we should perhaps shelve that particular exchange until we are back on the shuttle.”

Quinn squeezed his eyes shut, fear turning in his stomach.  There was only one honorable way to atone for such a lapse in judgement: request a transfer.  He only hoped he had the strength to do it.

“As you wish, my lord.”

When he opened his eyes, she was looking at him with a furrowed brow.  She waited a few heartbeats as if waiting for him to speak further and then sat back.

“Can you treat this blaster burn, Captain?”

He shook himself.  “Yes, my lord.”

He was applying a layer of kolto to the burn when he heard footsteps behind them.  Quinn grabbed the blaster rifle and turned toward the sound.

“Clear!  For kriff’s sake, Quinn, it’s just me!”

“Ovech!”  Quinn dropped the rifle and stood hurriedly, settling at attention with a proper salute.  Ovech’s full platoon was behind him.  “My apologies, sir.”

“As you were, Captain,” Ovech replied, reaching out a hand.  Quinn smiled and shook it, clapping Ovech on the shoulder.  The major’s eyes shifted to look behind Quinn.  “My lord, I expect I have you to thank for my rescue?”

Quinn shifted and motioned Mara forward.  “Lady Maranel Thrask, Lord of the Sith,” he introduced her.

Major Ovech bowed at the waist, and Mara inclined her head.

“On the contrary, Major,” she said.  “The idea and strategy were all Captain Quinn’s.  I am here as the official sanction, so to speak.”

Quinn felt himself blush.  “You are too modest, my lord.  I could not have secured the ship so quickly without you.”

She fixed him with a knowing look.  “We make a good team, Captain.”

Ovech glanced between them, then clapped Quinn on the back with a bemused shake of his head.  Mara’s lips twitched upward but managed to keep her expression neutral.

Quinn sighed.  

“Major Ovech, may we escort you back to your bridge?” Mara asked.

Ovech nodded.  “Lead the way, my lord.”

 

* * *

 

The blast door to the bridge opened without protest when Quinn commed the engine room.  He and Ovech were on point as they entered, weapons drawn.  Mara had chosen to hang back, in case cooler heads could prevail and keep this matter between members of the Imperial military.  

Lieutenant Sidcro and his men turned toward them as the group entered.  They were alone, standing  in the center of the bridge.  They hadn’t drawn their weapons yet, but Quinn felt fairly certain they would do so before the conversation was over.

“Well, well.  If it ain’t Admiral Malcontent himself,” Sidcro sneered at Quinn.  “Last I heard you were pushin’ papers in some backwater.  Surprised you still know how to hold a blaster.  You kriffed up bad interferin’ here.  Moff Broysc’ll see you executed for this.”

Quinn stiffened at the sound of his old, hated nickname.  It was entirely possible he was on his way back to some other backwater - or worse, straight back to Balmorra - but he could still rid the Empire of this scum before he went.

“Lieutenant Sidcro.  You are under arrest on charges of treason.  Come peacefully and neither you nor your remaining men will be harmed.”  Quinn felt his lip twist.  “Should you decide to resist, we will happily execute you here.”

Sidcro laughed.  “You got no authority here, Admiral.  Broysc’s the ultimate power in this fleet group.”

“I beg to differ,” Mara said, stepping forward to stand between Quinn and Ovech.  She shot Quinn a reassuring look before turning the full force of her glare on Sidcro.  “The Sith are highly interested in Moff Broysc’s actions here.”

“Found yourself a tame Sith, eh Admiral?  Didn’t think you had it in you.”  Sidcro laughed again, then shifted his gaze to Mara, his smile turning predatory.  “You can beg all you want, love, but Sith ain’t got no business mucking about with military matters.  Whatever Admiral Malcontent is slipping you, though, I know I can at least double your pleasure.”  He raised his hand to chuck her under the chin.

Quinn growled despite himself, but before he could move, Mara’s lightsaber flashed to life.  She swept it in a short, efficient arc.  Sidcro’s forearm and hand fell to the floor with a wet thud that was only enhanced by the man’s scream.  She closed down the lightsaber and returned it to her belt.  

“Bloody, kriffing Sith,” he ground out, cradling the bleeding stump that was once his elbow.

Mara turned to Ovech, her face and voice as dispassionate as if she were asking for a cup of caf. “Major Ovech, treat this man’s injuries and ready him for transport to Dromund Kaas for court martial.”

“With pleasure, my lord,” Ovech replied, motioning a medic team forward.  They dragged Sidcro away.

Mara turned to Sidcro’s three remaining men, all of whom had gone deathly still.  One of them dropped to one knee and removed his helmet.

“Second Lieutenant Malkin, Maw Squardron, my lord,” he identified himself.  “I take responsibility for my squad’s actions and humbly submit myself for your judgment, my lord.” He stared conspicuously at the deck, at Mara’s boots, anywhere other than Sidcro’s severed arm lying on the deck a meter away.   

Mara sighed.  “Your commander may be an idiot with no sense of duty, Lieutenant Malkin, but he is correct in that it gives me no pleasure to intervene here.  Moff Broysc’s actions have forced my hand.”  She motioned Ovech forward.  “You and your men will submit yourselves to Major Ovech.  Major, if these men can prove to you that they can serve the Empire faithfully, Lieutenant Malkin may rebuild his squadron under your command.  If they cannot earn your trust, you may initiate a court martial covering their crimes.”

Ovech bowed.  “Thank you, my lord.  We have some room aboard due to... attrition.”  From the way Ovech glared at Malkin, Quinn knew the second lieutenant would have a difficult road to redemption.

“Good.  Before you begin that work, Lieutenant, there is one task I would assign you.”

Malkin looked up at her.

“Deliver a message to Moff Broysc.  This ship is under Sith protection and Broysc may consider himself on parole. I will be watching.  Should the Moff decide to take unlawful action against one of his officers again, I will know.  And believe me,” her eyes drifted to Sidcro’s severed arm.  “Removing unwanted extremities is but one of my many skills for dealing with traitors.”

Malkin paled and swallowed visibly.

“Y-yes, my lord,” He said.

Mara grabbed his chin and locked eyes with him.  “Make sure he understands what he is risking, Lieutenant.  Fail me in this, and any mercy you may receive from Major Ovech will be for naught.  Now report to your new commander, Lieutenant.”

Malkin scrambled to his feet, both he and the two ensigns behind him snapping to attention.

“Maw Squadron, reporting for duty, sir.”

“Welcome aboard, Malkin,” Ovech replied coldly.  “I suggest you see to our lord’s task immediately.”

The three men scurried from the bridge.

Ovech bowed low to Mara.  “My lord, thank you.  I pledge my loyalty and this ship to you whenever you require it.”

Mara waved his offer away.  “You owe me nothing, Major.  Captain Quinn believes the Empire is stronger with you free to perform your duties.  I trust his judgment.  Justify his faith in you, and we are even.”

Major Ovech’s eyebrows shot up, and even Quinn found himself staring at her, his mouth agape and his heart jumping against his ribs.  

“I believe you have just secured the undying loyalty of this unit whether you want it or not, my lord,” Ovech responded dryly, and bowed again.  “My thanks again, Lord Thrask.  May I have a moment to speak privately with the Captain before you return to your ship?”

Mara smiled.  “Of course.  Captain, I will meet you back at the shuttle.”

Ovech led Quinn to his wardroom.  The door had barely sealed behind them before Ovech said, “Please tell me you are not going to overthink everything and ruin your chances with that woman.”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Xandir.”

The other man raised an eyebrow.  “Please, Mal.  The way you look at her, you’ve already picked out names for your half-Sith babies.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  Mara is only half-Sith herself, and,” he pressed on as Ovech dissolved into laughter, “any relationship between us would be highly inappropriate.”

The words sounded so hollow as he said them.  Ovech laughed harder.  Quinn crossed his arms and glared.

“Xandir, you know what my career has been through.  There’s no coming back from that.  What could a man like me possibly offer a woman like her?”   _Aside from incompetence that nearly gets her killed_ , he thought ruefully.

Ovech’s laughter faded, and he stared at Quinn incredulously.  “The two of you alone retook my ship on my behalf, and you don’t know what you can offer her?  You should have heard my men praising you when they got to me.  You two were a well-oiled machine, to hear them tell it.”

Quinn opened his mouth to protest, but Ovech cut him off.  “Besides, the way she looks at you, I’d wager she has a few names of her own picked out.”

“Now you’re just baiting me.”

“Truly!  Sidcro’s arm?  That wasn’t for the sake of her honor.  That was for yours, mark my words.”  When Quinn didn’t reply, Ovech sighed and gripped Quinn’s shoulder, looking him full in the face.  “She is special, Mal, and she brings something out in you I have never seen before.  You deserve to be happy.”

“Now, I should let you get back to her.”  

Quinn snapped to attention and saluted his friend.

“Good luck Captain,” Ovech reached out and gripped Quinn’s hand, “ and thank you.  I owe you my life.”

“You’re welcome, old friend.  And you owe me nothing.”

Quinn returned to the shuttle, his stomach clenched from the anticipation of what he knew must be done.

Honor demanded nothing else.


	4. It's Called Multitasking, Captain, Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, they started making out while being shot at, so I guess Mara and Quinn have to sort their feelings out now. The shuttle ride back from Ovech's ship is... emotionally charged, shall we say. We veer toward NSFW without quite getting there. Much like Quinn, I am making y'all wait. ;)

When Quinn returned to the shuttle he found Mara in the pilot’s seat plotting a course back to the _Fury_ .  Her gloves were stacked neatly on the console next to her and her jacket was undone, revealing flashes of a thin white undershirt when she moved.  She looked up as he entered, the corners of her lips turned up slightly.  She paused minutely in her movements, clearly sensing his mood, but turned back to the console and separated the shuttle from _Nightbringer_.

“We must talk, Captain,” she said, glancing up at him.

“Yes, my lord.”  He swallowed nervously.

He spent the next few moments in silence, watching her hands - agile red fingers dancing over the controls - as she worked.  When they were a safe distance from _Nightbringer_ she pulled the lever of the hyperdrive and set the proximity alarm before rising from the chair.  Quinn stiffened to attention as she turned to face him, gathering his courage.  The sight of the wound in her shoulder - the wound he caused - fortified him somewhat.

“My lord, I must officially request to be reassigned.”

All the courage in the world could not prepare him for her reaction.  She started, her eyes widening. “Why-”

She paused and began again, quieter, keen amber eyes searching his.   “Why in the galaxy would I want that?  Why would _either of us_ want that?”

He was proud of how steadily he met her gaze.  “For your sake, my lord,” he said earnestly.  “Thoughts of you… distract me.  I refuse to become a liability to you.”   _Any more than I already have_.

“Captain, we just pacified an entire ship by ourselves.  I have never worked with someone who complements me so well.”

He gestured at her shoulder.  “My stupidity nearly killed you!”

“ _Our_ stupidity,” she insisted, her voice heated.  “Do not presume, Captain, to take responsibility for my decisions. Unless you were trying to kiss me against my will.”

“No, of course not!”

The initial burst of outrage in his voice quickly cooled as he realized the true implication of her words. “My lord, I take your meaning.  But the fact that we are both compromised merely proves my point; this is not tenable.”

“Indeed it is not, Captain.” Her voice was gentler now.  “The problem is not our attraction to one another.  It is the lack of an appropriate outlet for our feelings.”

Stars, he wanted to believe her.  His stomach fluttered at the idea of what she was hinting at; it was what he had wanted for months now but dared not hope for.  Could it really be as simple as that - give himself over to his passion for her, and come out a better person for it?

She sighed into the silence and turned away from him, staring out the viewport at the blue mottle of hyperspace.

“If you insist upon it, I will of course grant your request, Captain.  You are not my prisoner.”  There was something in her voice he had never heard before.  It made his heart clench.  “But I would ask you to reconsider.”  

She turned back to him. Her face was composed, but her eyes were not.  “I… I will miss you if you go.”

He blinked. “You will miss me?”  He repeated blankly.

She cocked her head, a hint of a smile on her lips.  “Of course, Captain. I can find other officers to care for my ship or bind my wounds.  But they will not be you.”  As she spoke, that smile, tiny as it was, disappeared and her posture sagged a little.

He stared at her, his mind racing.  He had known she desired him - a fact that still surprised and flattered him, if he were being honest - and respected his abilities, but seeing her face now, hearing her voice shake slightly… he found himself faced with the reality that she cared for him beyond simple lust. Perhaps not quite in the way he cared for her, not yet anyway, but enough.

And he could not leave her.

“I am an idiot,” he said quietly, his face warming. “Please.  I withdraw my request.”

Her face lit up with a broad smile and she bounced a little on the balls of her feet, as if barely constraining herself from bounding about the shuttle.  It was an expression of pure joy, the likes of which he had never seen from a Sith.  But it felt right on her and melted away any reservations he had left.  He took a step toward her.

“I am going to kiss you now, my lord,” he said, his voice hoarse.

He reached for her, a hand on either side of her waist, and drew her toward him.  She placed a hand on his lips and held him back.

“Mara,” she insisted.

He smiled against her fingertips and reached up to gently move her hand, holding it in his against his shoulder.

“I am going to kiss you, Mara,” he amended, his voice barely above a whisper, feeling her name in his mouth.  Oh, he’d said it a hundred times, a thousand times; whispered it intimately, moaned it in the throes of passion, screamed it at the brink of release.  But always in his mind.

She inhaled shakily as he said it, her hand curling in his, and tilted her head up toward him.  

“Please,” she said.  

The word, equal parts request and command, sent a shockwave through his body.  He leaned down and kissed her, sliding his free hand from the side of her waist to the small of her back, pulling her lower body against him.

Their previous kisses had been rushed eruptions of tightly-controlled passion.  Now he took his time, experiencing the cool softness of her lips for several long moments, memorizing how they curved against his, before sliding his tongue into her mouth to explore. She opened herself to him and inhaled sharply through her nose, her free hand digging into his bicep as she leaned into him.  His arm tightened around her waist.

He broke the kiss and drew back slightly. They were both out of breath. Mara chuckled as their eyes met.

“Oh, Malavai,” she said breathlessly. “That was…”

“What?” He asked, smirking playfully and reaching out to stroke her cheek with the backs of his fingers.  

His hands were still gloved, as per Imperial uniform regulation.  Before she could answer, he drew back and grabbed the thumb of his right glove, trying to pull it off, both hands shaking with the need to feel her skin against his. Mara tsked and took one hand in both of hers.

Her fingertips tickled his through the leather as she - possibly with the aid of the Force - loosened each finger of the glove in turn. She finished with his thumb and slowly pulled the glove away, her eyes finding his as she did so. The leather whispered against his skin, followed by the caress of cool air.  She let it drop to the floor.

He moaned lightly when she brought his hand to her lips and kissed his fingertips, one at a time.  He couldn’t stop himself.  She smiled at the sound and kissed his palm before releasing his hand.  As she worked on the other glove, he reached out and gingerly lifted her jacket away from the blaster burn in her shoulder. Or rather, from the half-healed patch of skin the wound had become.

“This is healing very quickly,” he said.

“Well, I am a Sith Lord,” she responded flatly, tugging his second glove free.

It fluttered to the deck.  He raised one hand and wove his fingers through her hair. With the other, he cupped her cheek. He traced his thumb along her bottom lip, brushing the bone spurs that framed her chin, and then up, across the scars that ran down the left side of her face.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, wonder filling him. He still could not quite believe she was in his arms and urging him on.

Sensing his disbelief, she smiled knowingly, one hand stroking his hair and the other lightly tracing the outline of his ear. She stretched up to kiss his earlobe and whispered, “You are a brilliant man, Malavai.  I am precisely where I want to be.”

He nuzzled her as her breath caressed his ear, the hand on her face moving over her back to pull her against him once more. Her voice, silky and soft, lowered into a soft moan when he pulled her hips against his.  His other hand was at the nape of her neck, making a mess of the low bun she wore. He was certain his own hair would be standing on end by the time she was done.  Neither of them cared. She turned her head and kissed him, more urgently this time, pressing his mouth open hungrily. He groaned into her mouth and slid his hands inside her open jacket. The back of her undershirt had ridden up, and he grazed her bare skin with his fingertips. He traced her spine with both hands, holding her against him and pushing her shirt up.

She had begun working on the buttons of his jacket when the proximity alarm went off. They both jumped. Quinn glared at the console. Mara nuzzled his neck gently.

“Will you come to my quarters tonight? At, say, 2100?”

Quinn’s stomach flipped, desire and anxiety and excitement warring within him.

She read each of those emotions in him, for she added, “I assure you my room is quite sound proof. I’ve made no effort to quiet myself since you’ve been on board.” His mouth dropped open and she grinned wickedly at his reaction. “You are not the only one who has been pining away in the dark, Captain.”

The thought of her pleasuring herself to thoughts of him brought a feral smile to his face. He surprised them both when he nipped at her neck gently. She yelped, but twined her fingers in his hair as he trailed playful bites up her neck to her ear.

“I cannot wait,” he whispered.

He pulled away, straightened his uniform and ran a hand over his hair before moving toward the pilot’s seat. His hands were poised over the controls when she placed a brief kiss on his cheek and said, “Neither can I.”

He twitched, but was otherwise perfectly able to bring the shuttle out of hyperspace and dock with the _Fury_. He was content to let the anticipation build in the back of his mind as he ran the post-flight check and powered down the shuttle. After all, they would have all night.

When they left the shuttle, his gloves remained where they’d fallen on the deck, completely forgotten.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At 21:00, Quinn and Mara have sex. 
> 
> Or, Ria tries valiantly to write a sex scene worthy of the buildup from the previous chapter and in the process uses all the words. All of them.
> 
> This is practically PWP. I make no apologies. Enjoy!

Quinn sat in the galley with a datapad in hand.  He had just finished his evening meal - his usual camp ration - and was reading up on fleet reports and other work.  Or rather, he was trying to do so.  Mara sat on the floor of the crew quarters, across the hall from the galley, with Jaesa.  The two had been immersed in deep discussion for over an hour.  Mara had fixed her hair after they’d left the shuttle and she resumed ship’s business wearing the undershirt and form-fitting uniform pants she’d worn on  _ Nightbringer _ .  The effect was striking, to say the least.

It was a quarter to 21:00. Quinn had managed well in the hours after they returned, setting a course for Dromund Kaas and tending to work on the bridge, but now his anticipation ate away at his attention span.  He stared at Mara’s bare neck and imagined pressing his lips to it as he inhaled the scent of her hair, his hands on each of her muscular shoulders...

He shook himself and sternly yanked his eyes back to the datapad.  He could not fathom how she could converse so calmly with her apprentice as he sat meters away, squirming with desire.  She knew he was there. When she had walked into the crew quarters to speak to Jaesa, she had flashed him a smile - oh, the things that smile promised - and sat down rather pointedly on his bunk as Jaesa paced in front of her.  After a time both women had assumed meditation positions on the floor, where they had remained for the last forty-five minutes.

Mara’s voice had taken on a weary tone. They had discussed the finer points of philosophy surrounding the Force and the definition of a Sith for the entire conversation.  Quinn readily admitted that this was not a subject in which he had expertise, but he could not shake his misgivings about the young Alderaanian woman.  That she seemed to question so much, and indeed only joined his lord on the misconception that she was a secret devotee of the light side, set his teeth on edge. She seemed shocked to find one could be Sith without acting like a rampaging monster.  

“Jaesa, I am Sith.  As your master I will train you to be Sith.  That is not negotiable. I think you know that.  Mastering the Dark Side requires strength, which you have, and emotional literacy, which you can learn.”

Jaesa shifted her sitting position, leaning back on her hands, palms against the deck, and was silent for a long time.   

“You have given me much to consider, Master.  I do wish to train with you, and I understand better now what you will expect of me.  But it will be difficult to unlearn the Jedi teachings I have absorbed over the years.”

“Difficult, but not impossible.  You are a quick study, Jaesa, and I will help you.”  They both stood up and Mara squeezed Jaesa’s shoulder.  

“I will do everything I can to justify your faith in me, Master.”

“I believe you.  Now, I think Vette wanted to see you.”  

Jaesa bowed and walked out of the crew quarters toward the engine room, stopping to nod respectfully at Quinn as she departed. 

She disappeared around the corner, and Mara walked into the galley, brushing the non-existent dirt off her pants as she did so.  Quinn found himself staring at her chest; the thin undershirt hugged her curves tightly.

“You disapprove, Captain.”

“My lord?”  He forced his gaze back to her face as she sat down next to him.  

“Of how I am handling Jaesa.”

“Ah.  I would not go so far as to disapprove, my lord,” he said carefully.  “I trust your judgment.”

She chuckled, a rich sound.  “A diplomatic reply.  I welcome Jaesa’s questions, Captain.  Had she immediately flipped from embracing Jedi teachings to becoming Sith, I would worry.  But her questions show she wants to understand  _ why _ this path is better.  It is a more arduous process.” She sighed.  “But in the end she will be far more loyal and useful than if she had simply learned our ways by rote.”

“That is sound reasoning, my lord; I merely hope it will work.”

“I have her trust already.  It is only a matter of time.”  She glanced at the chrono and the weariness left her face.  “Speaking of time, you are welcome in my quarters as soon as you are ready.”

She kissed his cheek, her hand resting on his thigh for balance as she leaned forward, and left the galley.

Quinn forced himself to remain in his seat for a full minute, largely to maintain some dignity, even though in his mind he saw himself running out of the galley, his boots skidding around the corner to arrive at her door.

Instead he waited, staring blankly at his datapad.  Then he stood, deposited the datapad on his bunk, and walked at a pace befitting an officer to his lord’s door and pressed the call chime.  She called an entrance and he stepped inside, letting the door close behind him.

She stood at her wardrobe, barefoot, her boots in her hand.  She stowed them and turned toward him, a playful smile on her face.

“When I say you are welcome in my quarters, Malavai, you need not knock.”

He fully intended to respond to that, he really did.  But as she finished the sentence, he pulled her to him without thinking, one hand on the back of her head to guide her lips to his.  She inhaled sharply and wrapped her arms around his neck.  As they kissed, he walked her backward until she thumped against the wall.  She yelped at the impact.  He had already untucked her shirt, but the sound brought him back to himself.  He pulled back, a blush starting on his face.

“Forgive me, I…”  _ I need you so much I am losing my mind _ , he finished for himself.  “Is this too much?”

“Not at all; I like it.” In response, he slid his hands under her shirt, teasing his fingertips across her flesh until he found her breasts.  Her breath hitched as her nipples pebbled beneath his thumbs. “I will tell you if it is too much, or,” she nipped at his jaw playfully, “if it’s not enough.”

He laughed and kissed her again, experimenting with different pressures on her nipples until she moaned deliciously.  “Am I correct to read that as a challenge, my lor- Mara?” he said playfully.

“Mmm… yes, I suppose it could be read that way… gods,” she gasped as he took her earlobe between his teeth.

With her assistance he pulled her shirt up over her head. He let the garment drop as he gently nipped her bottom lip before moving on to her neck, kissing every bit of her flesh to find her sensitive spots.  He found one just below her ear and bit it roughly.  She cried out, twining her fingers in his hair and holding him against her, so he did it again, biting and licking her until the skin blossomed a deep purple.  

He kissed the spot gently one last time and moved on, down her body, kissing the hollow of her throat and tracing her collarbone with his tongue, before stopping at her breasts.  Here, he realized that his tongue alone did not elicit the reaction he was looking for, but his teeth, raked across each nipple, drew a quiet moan from her every time he did it.  He tended each before continuing down her stomach.

He was on his knees before her now and took a moment to look up at her as he gently rubbed a hand between her legs.  She was leaning heavily against the wall, her head tilted back.  When he touched her, her body twitched involuntarily.  She looked down at him and stroked his hair.  

“You are dangerous, Malavai,” she said with a smile, her eyes closing when he touched her again.  “Gods, please, I need…”

He felt the urge to make her say what she needed, to make her ask for it.  But he pushed the thought away for now.  He unbuckled her belt and opened the closure on her pants, pulling them and her underwear down until both pooled around her feet. As he straightened, he ran his fingertips over her legs from the tops of her feet up to her thighs.  He paused to press a quick kiss between her legs, inhaling her scent as he did so.  She bucked against him, and then growled in frustration when he continued moving up.  As he stood, he ran his hand lightly over her, nearly groaning himself at how wet she was.

When he was fully upright, she hooked her hand around the back of his neck and kissed him deeply.  He pushed his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, as he continued to run his fingers over her teasingly.  She spread her legs and he slid his fingers into her, finding her clit.

She moaned into his mouth and grabbed his uniform jacket at the split in the collar and yanked it open, following the line of buttons down to the bottom of the jacket.  He heard the fabric rip and several buttons clatter off the wall in front of him. Any other time, he might have been dismayed at the destruction of a perfectly good uniform.  But now, her impatience and clear desperation fueled his ardor.  He took his hands off her long enough to pull his arms out of the sleeves and let the jacket drop.  She ran her hands over his bare arms, making him shudder with the promise of more, and tugged on his undershirt.  It didn’t budge.  She frowned and prepared to yank it again, harder, but he grabbed her hands hurriedly. 

“That will not work, Mara.”

“What? Why not?”

“Shirt stays are a standard component of the officer’s duty uniform,” he said.

“Shirt stays,” she repeated. “What in the galaxy…”

He chuckled and pulled away from her so he could unzip and remove his boots, belt, and pants.  He heard her gasp when he finished and blushed, suddenly self conscious.  But when he looked up to see her face, the feeling fled entirely.  She was staring at him, her lips turning up in a lascivious smile as her gaze travelled slowly down his legs.

He knew that, despite their rather boring function, the garments had a singularly erotic appearance.  Indeed, it was not uncommon for new officers to include them in sexual play, either with one another or with civilian lovers.  He had been no exception.  But twenty years of near-daily use had rendered them mundane.

Until now.  Watching her face, he was suddenly reminded of how he’d felt when he first put them on and looked at himself in a mirror.  At length, Mara’s eyes met his. Incredibly, her cheeks had darkened.  He shocked himself as he felt a feral smile spread across his face.

“Are you blushing, darling?”  

She smiled at the endearment.  “I suppose I am,” she said softly.  “Stars, Malavai, had I known you wore these every day…” her hand twitched across her thigh, but she caught it before she touched herself.

He pulled her against him, felt her fingers running over his thighs, between the straps, and pressed his groin against her so she could feel how much he enjoyed this avenue of conversation.

“We shall have to do something about that in the future,” he whispered, nuzzling her gently.

She groaned needily. “May I take them off?”

“Of course.”

She stepped back only slightly and knelt, running her hands down his body as she did so, pulling a shudder and a moan from him.  He looked down at her, naked, sitting on her heels. Everything about the sight was wrong, against every instinct and belief he’d ever had.  It didn’t help that she still looked every bit a Sith lord, her dignity and grace somehow intact despite their postures.  He couldn’t decide if he wanted to torment her until she begged for him, or bow down in worship of her, offering himself for her use.  

She reached out, and he put a hand on her head.  “Be careful with the lower straps. They can be… quite painful if snapped.”

She nodded and, with deliberate movements - purposely avoiding his skin, he was sure  - unsnapped the clasps from each sock, carefully holding each strap as the elastic retracted.  She rose onto her knees, putting her face directly in front of his straining cock, and began working on the shirt clasps.  She looked up at him periodically, a mischievous smirk on her face. 

By the time she reached around his left thigh to unbuckle the band that anchored everything else, he was aching for her touch.  Her arm brushed his inner thigh and he jerked, a frustrated groan escaping him.  She chuckled quietly at his reaction, exercising more care in removing the band on his right thigh, which only made him growl all the more.  She removed the other band and laid it aside, then paused for what felt like an eternity, looking up at him, her face centimeters from his cock.  He wondered for a moment if she were hoping he’d grab her head and force the issue.

Then she nuzzled him through his underwear.  He swore as sensation tore through him, multiplied when she ran her nails up his thighs and around to his arse.  She grabbed his underwear and pulled them down to his ankles, then rose elegantly to her feet, grabbing the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head when she fully straightened.

The last of his clothing discarded, he wrapped his arms around her, pressing the full length of their bodies together.  She pulled his head down to hers, kissing him far more slowly and deliberately than he would have believed possible, given that the rest of her squirmed against him desperately.

“I need you,” he ground out, pressing his forehead against hers.  “I cannot wait any longer, please.”

She pulled him the few steps to her bed and fell backward, taking him with her.  He steadied himself and slid two fingers into her, ensuring she was ready.  Her hips jumped against him and she moaned.

The sound of her moan made his cock twitch, reminding him of his own need.  He positioned himself at her entrance and pressed her thighs open a bit more.  He groaned as he buried himself fully in her, holding himself there as he took slow, deep breaths, trying to stay in control.  Stars, she was wet and warm and squeezing him deliciously.  

A hand touched his cheek, and he opened his eyes to see Mara looking at him with a soft expression on her face that he had never seen before.  

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” she said.  She raised her head and kissed him, then pulled away enough to whisper, “Do not hold back, Malavai; I am not fragile.  Fuck me.”  She raised her hips and ground herself against him.  “Dear gods, I need you to fuck me.”

He could not have refused her even if he wanted to.  Her words triggered something in him and he began moving, his awareness blurring together into a storm of sensation: the heat of her depths; the whisper of her skin moving against his; her fingernails digging into his shoulders; her short, sharp cries, growing in volume and pitch as he thrust into her.  She had become his universe; nothing existed or mattered outside of her and her pleasure and the exquisite pleasure she triggered in him.

She clutched his head against her, her fingers twisting in his hair.

“Slower,” she gasped.  “Just a little… kriff, yes,” she moaned as he switched to long, slow strokes, pulling completely out of her before pushing back in.  Her legs wrapped around his waist as he moved.  He could feel them trembling, that combined with the change in her moans telling him she was close.  He nuzzled her, pushing her head to the side to open up her neck, biting her exposed flesh, then soothing it with soft kisses.

“Gods, Malavai, I… fuck…”

Her words trailed off as her orgasm hit.  She convulsed around him and screamed, squeezing him with every muscle she could clench.  He picked up his pace despite her legs around him, grunting against her deliriously as she continued to shake under him.  She stroked his back with trembling hands, her voice low and velvety in his ear as she urged him on.  When her hands found his arse and squeezed, he shuddered, overwhelmed, moaning her name as he spilled into her with his next thrust.  She cried out as well, her voice blending with his.  

They stayed like that for a few long moments, he supporting himself on forearms and knees as she panted under him, neither wanting to separate just yet.  She stroked his back as their breathing returned to normal.  At length he pulled out of her gently and laid down on his side behind her.  He realized with a start she must have pulled the covers back before he arrived.  She nestled into the curve of his body, pulling him around her like a blanket.  He smoothed her hair out of his face and kissed her shoulder, content to doze for a time.  

 

* * *

They stayed like that for an hour, Mara estimated, snuggled together in a contented haze.  Even in that relaxed state, her mind raced, sorting through the whirlwind of emotion his presence in her bed inspired: excitement, relief, a bit of trepidation about their working relationship, and something deeper, warm, that she was content to acknowledge without examining too closely just yet.  And he… his sense was a warm blanket, content, happier than she’d ever felt him.  Still anxious, probably for the same reasons she was.  But stars, she loved that she made him feel so content.  It was as intoxicating as feeling his lust for her overpower every internal control he had.

She ran her hand over his muscular thigh, idly wondering if he would be ready to go again and trying not to giggle like an idiot.  She snuggled closer against him, which in their state of nudity really meant she simply pressed her ass against his groin.  She did giggle then, a bit delirious, and clapped her hand over her mouth.  Quinn’s arm tightened around her waist and he kissed the back of her neck.

“Is something amusing?”

“Not amusing, exactly.  I am... “ she paused as she tried to quell the emotion building in her chest.  “I’m just happy you’re here.  Finally.”  Her voice was playful. 

“As am I,” Quinn murmured, slowly kissing his way down her neck. “I am sorry it took so long.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said as she tilted her head to give him better access.  “Your passion tasted sweeter because of the waiting.”

She felt his confusion, but he continued kissing her, working his way across her shoulder. She shivered against him.  

“What do you mean?”

“I can feel you in my mind, Malavai.” She gasped as he bit her shoulder playfully.  “Your passion and lust induce nearly as much pleasure as your touch.”

“So that’s the reason for this.”  He slid his hand between her legs, making her gasp and confirming her arousal.

“Yes.  What are you going to do about it?”  

He had grown hard as they talked; she could tell he was ready.  In response to her question, he pushed her forward, onto her stomach, and rose onto his knees.  She felt him shift behind her, and when he grabbed her hips she lifted them, spreading her knees obligingly.

He groaned at the sight of her and she could not stop herself from giggling again.  The giggle turned into a moan when he slid his fingers into her, rubbing her just so.  Oh, he had learned quickly from their first encounter how to make her squeal.  Having that analytical mind and its near-photographic memory focused on her pleasure… she moaned again.  

He removed his fingers.  She tensed, waiting, but he simply knelt behind her, fondling her ass gently.  Teasing, but nothing more.  She growled, her body aching for him.

“Would you beg, if I asked you to?”  He asked conversationally, running his fingers over her clit and pulling away again.

Mara’s eyes flew open and she straightened so she could turn toward him, unsure at first that she’d heard correctly.  He was aroused, of course, but also curious, testing his limits.  He had seen her reaction to his shirt stays, even if he didn’t have the Force to tell him how intensely her stomach had flipped when she saw them, or convey the image that had sprung to mind, of him, half-dressed, using his belt on her bare flesh while she writhed with pain and pleasure…

“Mara?”  His hand was on her back and he was leaning down to lock eyes with her, worried he had overstepped.

She blinked and focused on him and the concern on his face.  

“I would,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her entire body tingling with lust.  

He cocked his head.  “I’m sorry?”

“I would beg for you, for your cock, for… for anything you wished to do to me.”  

His breathing quickened as she spoke, as did hers.  She pulled him against her and kissed him deeply, stroking his cock with her hand until he groaned into her mouth.

“But not today.  It requires discussion.”

“It does,” he agreed.  “I will look forward to it.” 

She turned and he pushed her back down toward the mattress and grabbed her hips.  His cock slid into her easily, already familiar with her body.  She groaned and pressed herself against him, meeting his thrusts as he fucked her slowly, hitting every sweet spot.  He wrapped an arm around her waist and rubbed her clit as he moved.  

“Kriff, yes,” She groaned, gripping the sheets in tightly-clenched fists, the tingling in her body intensifying in heat until it exploded. Her toes curled painfully and she shuddered and moaned with her release.  And then he moved faster, his hand shifting from her clit to her hip for balance. He slammed into her at a quick clip, each impact sending aftershocks through her body. When he groaned, his fingers digging painfully into her hips as he came, his arousal and lust engulfed her senses, setting her off again. 

This time when the separated, he cradled her against him, her head on his chest, his heartbeat lulling her to sleep.  

The rest of the night passed in this fashion, exploring one another between brief periods of rest.  It was as if they were making up for the months they had danced around one another.  By the time Mara’s chrono beeped, announcing the beginning of ship’s day, they had only just dropped into a deep, exhausted sleep, snuggled together in twisted, sweat-stained sheets, their legs and arms tangled together.  Mara lifted her head and reached out with the Force to turn off the alarm as Quinn stirred against her.  

“Do you need to leave?” Mara asked.

“Not particularly,” he mumbled. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Not in the slightest.” She settled her head back on the pillows. “It’s just… If we are both missing, it will be obvious. I don’t want to force that on you.”

She felt his shrug. 

“Vette will make a nuisance of herself no matter what; sneaking about will only make her more tenacious in tormenting me about it.”

“And don’t forget, she has Jaesa to help her now,” Mara said

Quinn stiffened against her and swore, and Mara burst out laughing. 

“I'm kidding, Malavai. I don’t think Jaesa has ever had a sarcastic thought in her life, poor thing.”

He grumbled something less than complimentary about Sith humor but kissed her shoulder to take any sting out of his words. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear you,” she said with feigned innocence. 

“I’m going back to sleep now,” he said flatly.

“Mmm, yes.  I think we’ve earned it.”

She relaxed against him, her eyes drifting closed. The last thing she felt as sleep reclaimed her was Quinn’s contented happiness in her mind, mingling with her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are unfamiliar with shirt stays and their unique blend of the mundane with the kinky, check out this tumblr post: https://riajade01.tumblr.com/post/151446975874/inquisitorhotpants-riajade01-ninnaquinn Military types apparently wear a version that connects to both shirt and socks, for that fully tucked in look. And also to murder me slowly with lust.
> 
> Lastly, I do want to note that I deliberately wrote Mara letting Quinn take the lead for the most part largely because of the power differential between them. (She also, as is mentioned, enjoys being a bit of a sub, although she's more of a switch than a true sub).


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